I take the little moments of life and write about them. Always with Love.

Home is calling

Home is calling. I don’t know where I am going. I don’t know how long it will take. I don’t know if I am wrong or if I am right. But something is calling me home. My heart is listening and hearing a song.

A melody leading me home.

I gaze up at the stars. I listen to the roar of the ocean, waves in three shades of blue. I smell a wild rose, place one on my table surrounded by a batch of baby’s breath. A little boy smiles and asks me to never take it away. I light a candle, watch it flicker, stir the soup that nourishes our bodies, watch it drip down the chin of a giggling boy with the sparkling blue eyes. I dive under the covers with my husband.

I feel home.

I gaze out my window at trees covered in a blanket of glittering snow. I bite into a piece of chocolate, sip a glass of red wine beside a beautiful friend with the heart of a mountain, she speaks the words I need to hear. I hear a seagull’s call, watch him soar against the backdrop of a clouded sky, sun bursting through in long rays of light.

Calling me home.

My baby rests his head upon my shoulder, I rock him to sleep. Home is calling me. I listen to a song it makes me dance and I feel alive. I wake up to the sunrise, the sky a painting of orange and red.

There’s death and life. There’s joy, there’s pain. There’s love and hate. Rage and peace. Forgiveness and resentment. Gratitude and envy. I scream and fight. Despise those I love, feel jealous and insecure. Restless and lonely, envious and confused. I am all of these things and none of these things at the very same time. I am holy and broken, a house of good and evil. There’s grief and sorrow, injustice and ugliness, heart ache and loneliness, confusion and delusion.